


to the star on top of the tree

by orphan_account



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Christmas Tree, Domestic Bucky Barnes, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Lots of Music mentioned, Married Couple, Minor Original Character(s), winterprincess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Day 2- Tree LightingSo many artists mentioned, too many songs played ~ it was almost an angsty piece, in this play.Perhaps hauling trees and bellies could bring us together.





	to the star on top of the tree

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't know how to write the summary for this one, so I hope I somehow distracted you with a small rhyme lmao.  
> Apologies for having this posted so late. I simply overslept and then napped again. There it is. But I made them almost not like each other in this one, and maybe just a tad OOC - but let me know how this goes?

**Day 2** : Tree Lighting

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To say that she was tired was probably an understatement. Her ankles were so swollen she seldom wore shoes anymore, her breasts are constantly aching, her clothes don’t fit since about 2 months ago, even the kaftan Zora gave her had started to fill out, and she hasn’t been home in days, opting to sleep in her old chambers her mother still kept for her even after getting married, and the constant bickering with her brother and husband had started to wear her out.

 

Yes, she’s pregnant but she isn’t an invalid either and so she reasons that if she could still bend over to tie her shoelaces then she’s still able to work. But that was about 4 months ago when she could still bend over, and 2 months ago before she bought the slip-ons for easy access. Despite the labs’ occupational hazards on protective shoes, she made it very clear pregnant women we’re an exception, and it wasn’t as if she was the only pregnant woman in the lab, Kwheema was heavy with child just a few days ago and her own due date was coming soon. In 3 weeks to be exact.

 

Her bump had become her favorite thing her hands were purposed to touch. Always running her palms tenderly over the arch of her enlarged womb, nonchalantly smiling with her mind off into the very near future of meeting her child. How cute they would look with their small socks, the small air force ones Sam bought, and a copy of the small kimoyo beads (derived of any features of course, except for a tracker) that she already made for the little one laid in anticipation in a box on top of her dresser. But when she thinks of her dresser, she remembers just how long she’s been away from home. Away from him. So she put her wrench down and sighed heavily. Perhaps it was time to go home.

 

She notified her head of staff and signalled for Okoye to follow her, in which she faithfully and always did and as soon as she took a step out the door into the open tarmac and inhaled deeply, inwardly cursing for denying herself at lengths of the lavishness of fresh air and how her lungs danced under her ribs so much so she could feel her chest thank her for relief.

 

A sudden whirl of wind flushed all around her, her kaftan blowing about around her very pregnant body and she knows a jet has touched down on the tarmac. But what surprises her most was her husband who strode purposefully down the ramp of the quinjet, hauling a flourishing green Christmas tree on his shoulders. She becomes confused as she purses her lips while she turned to Okoye, who only shrugged in return.

 

He made his way across the stretch as he bids his greetings to the workers, allowing a one-armed Wakandan salute on his chest with his flesh arm, his vibranium one glinting in the sun catching a flash of gold in her eyes and she thinks there’s no better creation she’s ever created (with help of course) than the one in her womb. No greater invention than the revelation that she was with child, the memory caught her in a faraway smile and that’s when he comes before her, nodding to ‘Koye, and as he leaned down to press a slow kiss to her cheek, she realizes he’s also shaved, a small trim but enough to change the handsome face she knows. But he’s still hauling the tree and she’s just as perplexed as before.

 

“James…”

 

He simply hums, enjoying the way her wife is lost without words, the look on her face is priceless enough he almost wishes he could drop the tree and take a picture of her.

 

“That’s … that is a Christmas tree.”

 

“I know.”

 

She narrows her eyes, his eyes twinkled a gleam of mischief because when is he not up to something, even T’Challa is walking towards them with a smug grin and she wonders just what shenanigans the two have been up to when neither her or Nakia were present.  

 

“Why?” she asks, and although she knows why but what she wants to know is how he had time on his hands to get a Christmas tree and how on earth did he fit the thing in the jet.  Wakanda was at times simply too hot to celebrate the ugly sweaters and the hot cocoa’s, although maybe the mistletoe could stay, perhaps the tree too.

 

He shrugs, adjusting the yule logged tree on his shoulders as he does so effortlessly despite the size of it and walks off, to where, well she could only derive would be their home. She’s eyeing his back and she remembers running her palms down the slope of it and she misses their simple time together, until Okoye prodded at her elbow casting her fixation away from him.

 

It would be hours later until she finally made it home. She was about to call for her car when a worker had rushed to call her back into the lab and her legs took to running before she could even think. But as the sun was setting and the damage in the lab accounted for and settled, she took a final stance in the middle of the room, called for attention and announced that she would officially be on break until her child is born. She bid her final farewell and rushed for her car.

 

She knew he would be home, decorating the tree or perhaps he could’ve already started dinner and with the mention of food her stomach grumbled, knowing her own body and her child was very much at war with her own stubbornness for indulgence. Her nose tingled with hints of star anise, cinnamon and mixed spices and her belly rolled again to the smell of cooked lamb and somehow her hunger for her husband doubled. Her nutrition had lacked at best while she worked in the labs, but as soon as she made it to her chambers, she would ask the kitchen for a 6-course meal fit for T’Challa. As she was toeing her slip-ons off, she recognised the gentle plucking of a guitar and the wispiness of Shannon Dooks through the speaker’s system, when Bucky walks from his music room carrying an armful of bags.

 

“Wanna help me out?” he asks, pressing another kiss onto her cheeks the second time that day and she thinks she’s met her quota for cheek kisses when she wants his mouth everywhere.

 

She arches a perfect brow followed by a smile as they make their way from their front hall to their living room separated by steps. The windows are decked with tinsels, the couch has sparks of Christmas greens and ruby reds, the Christmas stood bare of any colour yet its flushness of emerald pulled at her heart strings. The staircase that led up to their rooms was ribboned with gold silk and the chandelier above barely outshone the sparks in her chest for the man that stood before her, his arm outstretched offering his flesh palm. Her hand fit perfectly in his as he led them to the tree where she could see that he had already coiled a string of lights around it, except they weren’t turned on yet.

 

“Alright time to light this baby up.”

 

“How about you light me up under that tree,” she mused, a smirk pulling at her lips but when she glances at him, his brows are furrowed, and a frown danced sombrely on his mouth as he goes to hang a silver bauble.

 

“So what did it?” he murmured, the words just barely catching with her. So she hums in question and pretended her joke had an effect.

 

“Who finally talked some sense into you? Thought you would’ve just stayed in the labs until your water broke.”

 

That may have been in poor taste and she knows he knows it. She swallows in her throat, guilt thick in the bile.

 

“Peanut did.”

 

“What, he just… gave you a kick and then you suddenly changed your mind?”

 

“I thought you didn’t mind my being at work.”

 

 

“I didn’t… until I slept one too many times alone in that bed- oh and there were many times, I even thought I’d be spending Christmas alone,”

 

“James-“

 

“No I get it. I get how important your work is, and you’re the head of tech so it’s only fitting that you should be there to overlook the process, but baby come home. I don’t mind you going to work I just want you home, you know I’m just as useless in that lab but sweetheart I’d just like it if you came home sometimes. No matter how hectic the deadlines get or how intense it is. I’m working too. I’m out there with T’Challa sometimes I’m on the mission alone but I want to be able to come home and see you and hold you.”

 

“You could easily just do exactly that except in my old chambers, you knew I was there.”

 

She felt his heavy sigh, twirling the small star ornament in his hands before he loosely hung it on a branch, but he doesn’t pick up another one, he walks away.

 

Shuri closes her eyes and tries her damn hardest not to take his silent steps to heart. She had tried to make a point with her proving everybody wrong, because all her life, all she’s known was the bar that she set herself every time anyone tried to limit her, whether it was her age, her skin colour, her stature and most definitely her being a woman. She didn’t realise what she had reserved for her work filtered into her own heart. So she placed the last ornament on the tree and her skin prickled a lonely coldness.

 

 

 

She finds him in their room, sorting his clothes on the bed and she realises the first few lyrics of Coldplay’s Christmas Lights, and they never seemed more fitting than now, like she’s watching her own music video.

 

“Hi,” she whispers, leaning against the door frame, her palms rubbing over her belly.

 

“Wanna come light it up with me?” she asks in hopes of rekindling what has always been theirs. Their love for each other.

 

He nods and guides her down the stairs and standing before the tree now empty of its everglow. Until she flips the switch and the lights danced before them. He wraps her in a side hug, her very pregnant body yet still so small against his form and she leans in closer resting her head just under his armpit.

 

“Bucky I’m sorry.”

 

She feels another kiss at her temples as she turns her head to look up at him and he finally turns to meet her gaze.

 

“Promise me you’ll come home more often.”

 

“I promise.”

 

He leans down to press his forehead against hers and she doesn’t realise he’s swaying the both of them to a little prayer. He lifts her chin gently, their lips hovering inches from each other before they barely brush.

 

“Missed you,” he whispers against her lips.

 

“I missed you,” she breathlessly replies, before he finally grasps the sides of her face gently and pulls her in for a real kiss.

 

And Ella takes them up a stairway to the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> All songs mentioned are in this [YT playlist.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzUwxQGxoWBayZp1MieK49YLjZCrx6vgi&disable_polymer=true)
> 
> Drop a comment about how good Lianne La Havas version of Say A Little Prayer is. And also if this could've been improved in any way. :)


End file.
